


Communication

by ForestIyari



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10709976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestIyari/pseuds/ForestIyari
Summary: Captain Swan reunited after 6x17.





	Communication

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my soft re-entry into the world of fic writing.  
> It’s a silly, smutty one-shot that wouldn’t leave my head while I worked on longer things. Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are my own.  
> TIA to anyone that reads!  
> Set directly after 6x17
> 
> None of the OUAT universe belongs to me.

The walk back to the house is charged, littered with touches and caresses, brief pecks foreshadowing the main event.

Henry’s wrinkled nose and refusal to meet their eyes as he volunteered to stay at Regina’s that night spoke volumes but neither Emma nor Killian could find it in themselves to be embarrassed. Yes, her parents had been separated for longer than they had and she knows it’s selfish to be running off, barely pausing for the customary threeway hug Snow and David have been unable to give her for the last few weeks before almost throwing her brother into their arms, but right now there’s something else she needs.

The fingers of Killian’s right hand play with those of her left as they walk, every few seconds touching on the ring there, reminding her of its prescence and sending a shot of light through her stomach.

There are seven “I love you"s, twelve "I missed you"s and three "I’m sorry"s exchanged along Main Street and she loses count of the kisses.

"You’re so beautiful.” Killian mutters as they push the front door closed, dipping his head to capture her lips fully, the way he’s been dying to since she said yes. The kiss is heated, yes, but it’s also deep, and slow, an expression of everything they’ve been saying, feeling and longing since being reunited. There’s no battling of tongues, just a deep carress as they remind themselves of each other. It’s an intimacy neither once believed they deserved and now cannot get enough of.

Eventually they break apart, foreheads resting together as they whisper their affections once more.

Killian tugs on her hand, brings it to his lips as he steps back towards the stairs

“Marry me?” He grins over her knuckles.

“Yes.” Emma matches his smile and follows him unresisting

“Marry me?” He says again as they reach the top of the stairs, pushing her jacket from her shoulders and tugging gently on the hem of her top.

“Yes.” She mutters against his lips as she helps him lift it over her head.

They’re drunk on each other and unwilling to lose any physical connection for even a second. They have each other back and they’re not letting go. Emma’s not quite sure how they make it to the bed, but she’s not surprised that she’s naked and he’s not, knelt on the floor between her knees, shirt and jeans unbuttoned as he peppers kisses over her thighs and pushes her gently back to her elbows. She forces her eyes to stay open, to meet his as he presses his lips to her navel, her hips, her mound and finally lower, his fingers parting her folds gently to give his tongue access as his hook caresses her ass. He alternates between long, slow, sweeping licks and short tapping motions directly against her clit, throwing in an occasional circling that builds her up slowly, higher and higher. He’s guided by her responses, assessing how best to apply his attentions and moans deeply as he pushes his tongue deep into her cunt, loving her answering keen.

The slow build can’t last forever and he shifts the pace, entering her with his fingers, stroking her walls as his mouth focusses entirely on her clit and she can’t help but let her head fall back to the mattress and her eyes drift closed as her entire world reduces to the man between her legs and the feelings he evokes in her. He licks, circles, scrapes and eventually sucks, drawing a cry from her lips as she climbs higher than ever before.

“Killian,” she moans, “I’m- there… Just…. Yes… There.” She presses against his face, chasing her release and he knows exactly what she needs, keeping the pressure and motion consistent until she falls apart, crying his name again with her release. He stokes her through it, easing her down without pushing her over to discomfort.

When she opens her eyes he’s standing over her, reaching into his pocket for his phone. She used to find his obsession with her embarrassing, but now post-coital photographs are not only routine but comforting- another way he shows her how much he treasures her. Killian reaches over, taking her left hand and placing it between her breasts, diamond clearly displayed.

“Damn,” he growls as he finally draws out his phone and his face darkens, “forgot about the damn battery being dead.”

“Use mine.” She offers and he raises an eyebrow in surprise before reaching for her jeans on the floor. He’s so focussed when he does this, lining her up, eyes flickering between her and the screen and while the break in passion should be dampening, it only increases the anticipation. Emma can’t help but play to him; leaving her left hand where he’s placed it but bringing her right to her stomach, splaying the fingers wide before moving them up to cup her breast and then stroke over her nipple. She draws her lower lip into her mouth, knowing how it makes him, and watches his eyes darken before he shoves the phone into his pocket roughly and leans over her.

The kiss is almost harsh this time, rough, the tender emotions pushed aside as the wild, desperate, darker ones take over. Killian’s hand and hook are under her ass, pushing her up the bed as he crawls over her and as soon as her head reaches the pillow she brings her hands up to roam over his chest, pulling on the hair there, drawing a moan from his throat before she reaches to push his shirt from his shoulders, her right foot up over his hips pushing his weight to her core while her heel desperately tries to find a way to push his jeans further down. She growls in frustration as his shirt catches awkwardly on his brace and his pants stubbornly refuse to budge and he chuckles darkly against her lips

“Patience, Swan.” His tone belies his words and she rolls her hips against his to show just how little patience she has right now.

“Slow later, Pirate, I need you now.” He rocks back, kneeling between her legs as he unsnaps his brace and pulls it off without untangling the shirt. There’s a dull ‘ding’ from somewhere and a part of Emma’s brain registers it as a text message arriving. Probably Henry asking her to bring his books to school tomorrow. She’ll check later.

“Need me how, Swan? Where?” Hook’s tone is sultry, sending chills straight through her. "Here?“ He leans down and kisses her lips chastly. "Or here?” He rolls a tongue over her nipple, before pulling back, resisting her hands pulling him back down for more. She’s not in the mood for teasing though and as soon as he’s pushed his jeans over his hips, allowing his erection to spring free, she springs, maneuvering them until he’s pressed into the mattress and she’s straddling his hips, the jeans around his thighs impeding his resistance. She lines her entrance up with his cock and lowers herself gently but purposefully, enjoying the harmony of their joint moans as they join together for the first time in too long.

“Killian.” She moans,

“Emma, gods.” He replies and, motionless, they take each other in for a second, eyes locked. He licks his lips and moves his hand and stump to her hips as a low ringing and buzzing begins behind her. Her phone. "Leave it.“ He groans as if she had plans to do otherwise. Eventually the noise stops and she leans back, bracing her hands against his thighs as she begins a steady rhythm.

She’s a goddess above him, pale skin almost glowing in the dim light of the room, hair cascading like a waterfall of gold; she truly is his treasure, his happy ending and he’d do anything for her. The slow glide of her walls against him is perfect, walking the edge between climbing and falling and he longs to feel her come around him. He forces himself up against the headboard, careful not to throw off her rhythm, taking one nipple in his mouth, massaging the other with the scars of his wrist and dragging his thumb down to massage her clit, the gasps and groans she lets out at his ministrations only serving to heighten his arousal. He’s not sure how he manages to hold back his release, determined to watch hers, adoring the cry as she falls apart, clenching around him. He wants to capture that moment forever; Emma Swan without walls, without worries, coming apart just for him. But before she has the chance to come down properly the bloody phone is ringing again and he knows there won’t be a chance for a third from her tonight. Selfishly he flips her over, ignoring the vibration against his thigh and driving into her roughly until he too feels his release overcome him and collapses on top of her.

They know they have little time to bask in the afterglow, but that’s not new for them. They know to take the quiet moments as they come, push their advantage. Killian rolls off her but refuses to let her go without another slow, deep kiss and Emma’s not exactly pulling back. When they do eventually pull apart she grins up at him.

"Marry me?” She asks.

“With pleasure.” He grins back, reaching behind him for the wet wipes on the side table, refusing to take his eyes from her.

The front door closes with a bang and they start. Surely it’s too late for Henry to have come from Regina’s alone but everyone else would knock at least. Killian jumps up, out of the bed, easily covering himself with his jeans before throwing Emma her shirt. Whoever’s here has yet to pause, and their footsteps can be heard outside the bedroom door before they bang forcefully against it.

“Emma, honey? Killian?” Snow’s voice is sharp, as regal as he’s heard in a while. He looks over to Emma, sure he shouldn’t be the one to open the door right now.

“Mom?” Her voice is on the high side, he’s not sure if she’s panicking or just embarrassed. "Just a minute.“

"Oh no, you don’t need to stop.” He raises an eyebrow at that and she seems just as puzzled. "Just… Could you make sure to lock your phone before continuing?“ Killian gasps, reaching to his jeans pocket. Emma actually squeaks. "Okay, bye, have fun!” Snow’s words rush out and her footsteps recede through the house, the front door closing again with a resounding thud.

“Bloody hell.” There are no words to describe just how awful the sight before Killian is.

“How bad?” Emma asks and as he plays with the screen it only gets worse- the three missed calls from Snow nestled between outgoing calls to David is bad enough but pulling up the messages…

Five photo messages delivered.

He’s never going to be able to face her father again.

He hands over the phone and gets out through gritted teeth;

“Wedding in the Underworld sound good?”


End file.
